Hard Knock Life
by Catalina87
Summary: Liberty city through the eyes of a young female detective. Will get quite dark when Liberty City gets 'Cut Off' in later chapters. CHAPTER 3 Re-done! - Read and Review!
1. Night Shift

**Disclaimer:** I DON'T OWN GRAND THEFT AUTO!!!

Hard Knock Life

**Liberty**** City******

This story is through the eyes of a young, prominent female detective working the greatest urban disaster ever, taking hardened criminals off Liberty's streets. Well, read and review!

**_BTW_**: !!!!! represents flashback

_Chapter 1:_ Night Shift

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I round another corner; following the guy I just witnessed committing grand theft auto. Even though I am a detective, not a cop, I can still arrest him.

He is still in front of me sprinting, man, is he fast! It feels like I've been chasing him for ages. Turning into a deserted alley, he hurtles over stacks of boxes and around dumpsters as though he is fully equipped to this environment. I dodge some clueless pedestrians (a Triad and grandma) still out roaming in the night, into the dark passage after the punk.

The street lights overhead gave little light in the indistinct, humid night air, I almost lost the creep when he climbed over a fence and bolted behind more buildings. The light of a neon glowing EXIT sign reflected off his black leather jacket for a split second catching my eye. Heaving myself over the fence I get within yards of the man. He turns around, giving me a quick smirk before bolting into the shadows ahead.

The felon almost looks familiar... Where have I seen the black shirt, leather jacket, baggy green cargo pants, and 5 'o clock shadow before…? The man has dark, spiky black hair and tenebrous, cold eyes too... His heavy leather coat and baggy pants didn't seem to slow him down at all, even with all the ammo and guns I'm _sure_ he's packing. In Liberty, unfortunately everyone carries guns. With more and more law enforcers turning to darker ways for making money fast, citizens feel the need to protect themselves from the ever growing gangs and corrupt individuals in this city an even higher priority then ever. I just want things to be like they used to be, before the demonic scum rose up out of the shadowy corners and took this city over.

Maybe my last thought got my adrenaline pumping, or maybe it was the man's little '_You-and-I-both-know-I'll-be-back-on-the-streets-tomorrow-night'_ glint in his eye that made me really want to see him behind bars. I am _not_ going to give him another free night for reckless vandalism on my watch.

He tears around the corner of a building; I follow, running around the same corner. He flies past two chained rotweilers causing them to pull at their chains and bark ferociously. The unlighted, humid night air blows some paper at my face, but I manage to dodge it. A heavy downpour would be coming soon. My hair started coming out of the brown pony tail holder, but I ignore it.

The silent man darts further between the endless brick walls trying to shake me. It amazes me how agile he is in the cluttered alley, it almost seems superhuman the way he maneuvers. Man, I wish we had a guy like that on our side for a change… Maybe we'd actually catch some criminals for once and turn our reputation around.

We reached the back of a rundown warehouse with a dim yellow light coming from inside. _Geez_, I was getting out of breath. I could hear my breath louder by the minute. Leaping over a small fence, I realize how little sound the man makes. I create lots of noise running over crates and tipping over trashcans (like I said, it's really dark when you get deep into the alley labyrinths on Staunton Island), unlike him. I tried to maintain a steady gaze on the back of his coat, now a few yards ahead of me. If I lost him now, I wouldn't catch up or be able to listen for his footsteps in the still night air.

He swiftly dodges into an alcove I don't even notice. This takes me by surprise, but I cautiously follow him, sprinting through it. I round the corner, just to discover he stopped running!

I nearly yelp and fall over, but getting a hold of myself, I stop a few yards from him. The brown haired man stands glaring at me, just eyeing my every movement, not even out of breath! Through the thick musty air, I could now tell he's pretty tall and muscularly broad; probably around 6'1. I on the other hand am about 5'6.

I try angrily catching my breath; this is NOT how I wanted to spend my night! Criminals like this cocky punk that think they can get away with anything really make me annoyed. He patiently crosses his arms waiting for me to make my next move, a smug look crossing his features.

My dark, thick wavy hair is completely out now. It must have come out in all the running.

I slowly put it back up again as best I can. I didn't want to make any sudden movements for some reason… I didn't want him to bolt off further down the grubby, smoky passageway. His features are pretty unreadable in the flickering light. The moon was well hidden behind the overcast storm clouds.

I bet he is annoyed or angry that I have been following him. Or amused perhaps? That would make me more hot-headed then I'm already feeling.

We meet eyes for the first time.

"…Oh my gosh," I start. "You're _him_! The most wanted felon in Liberty City…. Iceman right? Or the Reaper…?" I shake my head. This _cannot_ be happening!

Why didn't I realize it before? He is well known all over this city. I've heard horrible stories about him… This punk is single handedly bringing this city to its knees killing many gang figureheads and slaughtering countless people on his impenetrable rampages and in his incompetent, selfish, personal battles—or so I've heard. Whatever_._ He's still going downtown.

"You just figured that out?" He smirks and regards me. This I didn't unexpect. He is well known for not talking…

"Well, I wouldn't expect a fed to chase me for so long if they knew, I guess…" He continues slowly. A large crack of thunder followed by lightning appears overhead; I can tell the rain would come any minute. The lightning flashes again illuminating his face for a split second. He wasn't exactly cute, but he is a kind of a rugged hansom—possible without the cryptic smirk.

"I just was expecting the Reaper to have… Well…" I study him closely trailing off, he raises an eyebrow.

"Horns and a tail?"

"YES! _Exactly_! After all you've done! I mean are—you—_crazy_?!" I made large hand gestures. This guy was the spawn of Satan! For some reason I wasn't scared right now, just really agitated at being in the middle of an old dark alcove between some leaking buildings smelling like car exhaust.

"…I mean are your pants on too tight cutting off the circulation to your brain!? You've killed _half_ the police force, countless gang members, _who knows_ how many innocent pedestrians" I counted these off in my head, like I've been reciting it many times for the moment I came face to face with the guy from your nightmares.

I was getting way ahead of myself and stopped. _Focus Mia!_ _C'mon!_

"There are _plenty_ of people that would love to chase you down to see you behind bars." I said straightening up. A stray raindrop rolls down my cheek.

He doesn't say a word. We don't separate eyes. He pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and tosses the lighter aside before continuing.

"…Lets just say by some act of God, the pigs in blue manage to take me down—and it _won't_ be in a situation like this." He states this firmly and darkly.

"There are ways of seeing the outside light again. Nowadays, the crooked cops in this city will do anything for a spare hundred grand or two… Trust me, I know…" The clouds let out a heavy sheet of rain, drenching everything in the alleyway all of a sudden. '_Great.' _I look down at my white blouse and black pants.Smiling, the man continues slowly.

"LCPD is losing men and influence in the city everyday. You think these new punks on the job actually care about the law or the innocent?" He laughs at this. Innocent in Liberty city… Yeah right. It is a laughing matter.

"You might work your heart out one night in the freezing rain to put a criminal like me behind bars, but you know what sweetie?" He receives an unfavorable glare from me.

"He'll be back on the outside the next day, roaming the streets for his next victim. You know why?" _Why am I listening to this freak!? _"Because we don't sit around enforcing the rules—we make them. We have all the influence over the judges, cops, witnesses—everyone—in this city. You and I both know that…" He examines my reaction. I blink out of disbelief. I wish he'd stop talking. I focus on the soggy, blurry warehouse behind him with unseeing eyes.

"That's not true!" I breathe malignly

"…You know…" I continue more quietly. "I didn't sign up for this job to enforce a bland black and white set of rules"—pause— "I mean… _C'mon!_ I probably don't even know half of them…" I wipe some dripping hair falling into my face aside.

Shaking head; "No, no… growing up… I remember moving to this city… I remember lying in my bed at night not knowing if my dad would come home safely from work. I watched as the local stores I grew up going to became vandalized more and more every year by people I thought I could trust. I remember my _best friend_ being mugged on the way home from school one day, so, out of fear, we had to be with an adult at all times whenever we stepped foot outside.

I watched as my classmates all dropped out of school to become drug addicts one by one. I remember my brother telling me it would all be alright, only to discover he had joined a gang himself—" I take a deep breath and meet his deep eyes.

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"When I was 13, three people were shot and killed on the pavement right in front of me. Things only went downhill from there…Do you have _any_ idea what that does to you when you are that young?!" I could feel my face heating up as though the sun had burst through the sheets of rain all of a sudden. I continued on in the steadily increasing rain;

"I became a detective because I didn't want to see that happen to anyone else because of greedy monsters like you!" I got taken aback. I finished the last part without thinking. My lip quivered a little and my eyes became watery, but only for a brief unnoticeable second in the rain. _Don't forget who you're talking to, Mia!_ I ran a hand to brush the water off my face. There was a short pause.

He flicked his cigarette aside which was going out anyway due to the on pour.

"That's really touching." He smirks sarcastically. I didn't feel like being around this villain anymore. I hit a really personal note there…Shivering in the rain; I dared this guy to continue.

"It's getting easier everyday for me to do my job." He finishes warmly with a diabolical smile. He looks up into the oncoming rain in the night.

I glare at him. "Your job…? Right… I'm sure it's _very_ exhausting… Selling SPANK and planting cherry bombs at the local mall must be very challenging for someone like you." My words obscured in the noise of rain. He just stood there arms crossed, regarding me. I produced a pair of handcuffs from my jacket. The rain started to fall harder. My hair stuck like a mat to my face.

"This is going to end now! I'm taking you downtown!" I yell over the rain.

I take a step toward him when—he laughs. He laughs! You do not laugh when going to jail! His take on dark twisted humor sent a chill up my spine. Looking at him standing in the rain no more then 10 feet away from me laughing made my insides churn. It was eerie really… I started to believe the almost supernatural, inhuman, hair-raising stories I've heard about him...

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

_7: 50 AM: Taking a seat on the subway to work, I stare at a man in a dark trench coat reading an article in the _Liberty Tree_ featuring the 'Lone Gunman' on the front cover. The man takes an empty seat across from me, reading intently. An elderly black woman sits next to him and begins rambling_:

_"yup…'dat 'dar Leather Jacket man took out 20 or so of 'em Cartel members last weekend. Saw it 'wit my own two eyes I did…Carries unlimited amounts 'a guns I've 'eard—can shoot a fly 50 feet away blindfolded—or so I've been told—" A few neighboring women and children shudder at the name. I try focusing my attention back on the window. _

_The woman points accusingly at a neighboring cop and me. "I thought you were gonna take care 'a 'dis guy! I ain't lettin' my cat Puddins outside till he's dealt wit. If **I** ever meet him…Ooooh lordy, **I'd** teach him some respect I would…" _

_Two smelly Jamaican men shuffle through the crowded apartment and take seats behind me. "…Ya 'mon… King Courtney 'don like 'dis fellow… Says 'E gets nervous jus' bein' beside 'em. Says 'E gonna make 'dis Iceman pay…" I turn around abruptly at the name. The shaken men give me icy looks causing me to turn back around slowly. The bald man in the trench coat begins asking the officer bold questions about the gunman. "I thought you already **got** him off the streets…What happened?! I would like to think you'd try to stop this guy at some point before he has another target practice on a crowded street with children…Do you just sit around all day waiting for him to strike first---?" _

_!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

_._

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A cold, wet chill snapped me back into the narrow alley.

I hope the chill is from the water droplets soaking through my thin blouse, not this twisted kid's taunting laugh... Kid…_Ha_… I must sound like a grandmother rambling on when really I'm just 24.

"Yeah—Alright… You're coming with me" I yell unamusedly over the rain. This time a little less certainty is in my voice... but anything to make him _stop_!

The laughter subsides finally and he became lethally silent. The mood changes. The air between us seems to tense up and the rain fades into the background. His face contorts and his trademark cold glare meets me and, let me tell you, it seems to reach inside you to sucks the life right out. There is a pause.

"No, you're coming with me." He says languidly with a malevolent smile.

My dark eyes became wide and I became silent and still. Suddenly, an icy rush of fear pumps through my veins. '_Maybe he was right… I should have sat this one out…'_

He began lazily walking toward me through the sheets of precipitation. This is getting scary… In the night air it was hard to see his dark leather outline, unlike my white blouse that sticks out like a sore thumb in the murky, damp alley. The rain obscures my vision a little bit; it's also hard to think with it pattering down hard on the surrounding unused crates, walls, and all over my face. I still had my small .45 gun issued to me I only use in emergencies on my belt. I reach for it slowly as to not draw Iceman's attention. The Reaper closely follows my hand and smirks. An empty leather case meets my grasp.

I clench my teeth._ 'No…please. Come on!' _ Immediately, my eyes drop to the ground. _It must have fallen out!_ Frantically I look every way around crates and things for my gun. I splash through puddles but to no prevail. The Reaper had a distinctive walk to him I notice, being within feet now.

I do not like fighting, nor do I really know how—but self-defense I _can_ do. This is the main reason I decided to become a detective, not a cop; more thinking and problem solving then the actual fighting of the crime. His cold, piercing glare gave way to a regarding smirk momentarily as I straightened up, and raised my fists. He must know something I don't (like what his next move would be..?) I tense up and take a step backward.

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_'Alright Mia, feet shoulder length apart… Look for your opponent's weakness…' _What did that crazy Japanese dojo say?!?I quickly start running through what I should do in my head. My body was not cooperating, but turning to Jell-O as I face him. He was so close I could almost see the raindrops gleaming in his hair.

Mia _think_!_ '11th grade health class… Women's self defense class…The academy…' _What did they say to do...? '_Know where the enemy's hands are at all times, keep your fists up, turn sideways slightly, suck in when absorbing blows, keep your head up always, connect with the man's sweet spot with a well placed power kick'—_Forgetit all! I brace myself and lunge at him with all my force. His back meets the watery pavement hard. This is as much of a surprise to him as it is to me! My frustration takes him by shock. Breathing hard and soaking wet I try grabbing the collar of his leather jacket forcing him to the ground.

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"Hold still!" We struggle for a few seconds. My hands couldn't grip his slippery wet leather jacket. He rolls on top of me, but I knee him hard pinning him back down. I put my hands to his neck, but he grabs my wrist. "_Arrhhhhh__!_" I struggle out of his grasp and try kneeing—kicking—punching him blindly. With one last burst of energy, I wrestle him down completely. I grab his collar and shake it as a means of somehow controlling him.

His arms try reaching up, but I roughly grab them and force them to his sides. I have a leg on either side now, so I am straddling him. I expect him to kick up again, but he stays still. I glower at him, catching my breath. His face is illuminated by the light reflecting from the raindrops. This felt a little awkward if you think about it. The most wanted criminal on record at the Liberty City precinct right between your legs—

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"So what are you gonna' do now baby? Take me in? Make sure I never see the light of day this time?" He sweetly says struggling for more air. I just stare at him, looking for any trace of humanity still left. Being this close, I realize he _is_ just human—and pretty hansom—in a sinful way I suppose... His piercing eyes hide something deeper about him though. I wonder how many people have been so close to him to realize his eyes actually are a kind of almost shocking silvery-grey. A strand of hair goes into my eyes from my hair that is out loose again taking me out of my thoughts.

Reaching for the cuffs, I realize it almost seems like he _let_ me pin him down. I knew he could overpower me probably… It made a tingle go up my spine just thinking about it.

"You know it won't do any good dragging me to the station." Quietly he informs me. His icy eyes send a shiver up my spine again. He must have felt it too, because he smiled nefariously at me, yet warmly at the same time…

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That didn't make me hesitate for a second. He smirks at me, I boldly choose to ignore it.

"You really are pathetic..." I hear him mutter. I almost have his hands where I need them—

_WHAM!_ I feel wet pavement on my back again. His weight now completely on me, I glare at him shocked. Immediately, my instinct is to knee—kick—

"Get _offa__'_ me!!!" I yell hysterically. "Urgh!" I struggle under him for minutes. He seems to be enjoying this. He wrestles me tighter to the ground—I try to push him off me, but I just can't.

The real seriousness of the situation hit me like a brick. I stopped struggling against him suddenly. For the first time, I felt really scared. I couldn't get out from under him.

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I breathe really hard, trying to hide the fact that I am petrified. He could read me like a book at this point...

There is a short pause. My hair had basically come out again, like a spider over the soaked pavement. He holds my shoulders down to the pavement. It is no use struggling against him.

He regards me for a second then finally begins to speak:

"How did a girl like you end up working for the feds anyway?" I look up at him for a few seconds. I don't know exactly what to answer in my position.

"You're fighting a losing battle." He whispers right into my ear leaning very close. I can almost feel his lips brush against my ear. It sent a shiver up my spine. He could sense it too I thought, fueling the moment.

"All I need to do is bribe a cop a few grand, maybe even a million dollars once at the slammer… It's more then they'd make in a lousy year of work—and I'll be back on the streets by tomorrow night." He says to me almost warmly. I try pushing him away from me again.

Iceman smirks and continues, gently forcing me to face him. "So how much will it take?"

_What?_ I avoided his cold, grey eyes until this point— "Right now I have about 600 grand on me… It's the most I can give you at this point." He smiles; some water running down his forehead dripping onto me.

_._

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"You could buy yourself a nice, shiny new car with the money…Or some earrings..? You could donate it to the Liberty City Cocks for all I care. We can just pretend this whole thing never happened." He leans back and reaches into a pocket, leaving me to gaze up at the falling rain._ Maybe I should just take the money…_

"No…" I manage weekly.

"What?" he hisses narrowing his eyes.

I shake my head quietly answering; "I don't want your money…"

He leans back over, contemplation me. I battle tears I feel swelling in my eyes. I never wanted any of _them_ to ever see me cry. I promised myself that... He didn't move and we met eyes. Anger and fear floods through my body for beginning to show weakness... _You need to be strong now!_

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"I don't EVER want _any_ of your filthy money—" I kick him again, but his mind seems distant, only half-processing my ineffectual escape attempts. It's like nobody ever said 'no' to him before…

He forces a kind of sleeper hold on me suddenly, causing my struggling efforts to cease. Slowly, he runs a finger to brush a strand of hair that went in my face.

I manage to break away from those grey eyes to look at something—anything else. My breathe became unsteadily. He was right though; the gangs in this city did run everything...

Then he did something I was not expecting him to do. He gets off of me and stands up.

I keep staring at him, slowly leaning onto my elbows. I am a little puzzled right now…What would he do next and why did he get up...?

What was with this guy..? He smiles slightly and my heart races. I became annoyed again at his dopey grin.

"... Trust me..." he continued with a now lit cigarette and in his mouth. He sounded really smooth and almost seductive. Giving me a once-over and taking a long drag, he reaches casually into his deep coat pockets. He pulled out something I'd fear he'd pull out—a gun. _My_ gun! I froze. _No!_ _How is that possible?!_ This is it. I was too shocked to do anything but stare. He examined the small firearm briefly, turning it over and rubbing his hands over the smooth handle before cracking the small cartridge open;

"—You and the rest of the feds will crack sometime soon, one...by...one."

As he said 'one-by-one' he extracts the bullets out and let each one hit the ground one—by—one.

They each hit the pavement with a 'clink' in slow motion it seemed like, through the rain. I hung on to his words.

"Now I have some business that needs taking care of." He quickly snapped the cartridge shut with a whip of his hand and tossed the empty weapon back into my lap.

"See 'ya around, babe." He gave me one last smirk, and then backed into the shadows out of my view.

The rain seemed to slow down in the night. This man lived in the shadows of the night. This was his environment and time, not mine… My eyes lingered on the shadows he just vanished into, before standing up quickly. I tucked the empty gun back into my belt.

The rain slowed, but waterfalls were still pouring down the brick walls from the storm gutters. He had won tonight... He got away... Yet another one…

There was little light save for one flickering street light a few hundred feet away.

I had no real idea where he is at this point—or where I am for that matter. The damp, alley stretched very far, with only a single unfamiliar glowing Chinese sign as a means of telling me where I was.

I think about all the things that could have happened, and all the ways this night could have ended. I wring some water from my clothes…_Will he ever be stopped? No no no..._ I thought looking around. No use trying to find him now. _We'll meet again…_ I concluded inspecting the large foreign crates around me, relief now rushing through my veins. I really hope someone brings that punk to justice—now more then ever.

I catch myself smiling slightly; my old attitude flooding back filling me with a warm sense of hope. I definitely was not expecting to have a run-in with the Reaper, Ghost, Leather Jacket, or whatever they call him to end how it did… I didn't expect him to be about my age and kind of cute either—as far as psychotic hitmen go—

The shower of rain almost seemed refreshing now. A loud _**BEEP** rips_ me out of my thoughts... My smile faded and I shake my head. It's going to be a long night.

The walky-talky strapped to my belt flashed.

"Oh yeah, I—"

"Detective M. Cherish—are you _Ok_? Is everything alright!?" A feminine voice bellows. My head was still spinning a little bit.

"...Ahhhhm Yeah, I'm fine… Sorry I didn't call in." I say rubbing my head.

Now to find a way out of this labyrinth of dark alleys… I'll admit, it feels very eerie being back here all alone…

Half an hour later, while walking groggily past another looming, ruined, abandoned factory, the hair on the back of my next pricked up. The feeling of being watched quickly advert my eyes toward the fire escapes above. _Silence…_ Rickety, empty metal landings are that met my surveying eyes. I have been led on a really long chase—it's getting to my head. It seems like he knew exactly where _he_ was going. Maybe the guy is still around…

Dismissing the idea, I quicken my pace. I just need to find a main road and get out of the back alleys. Being alone anywhere in Liberty City at night is _never_ a good idea.

Later that night, I eventually found a main road safely, Ceder St., and an officer to give me a ride back to the downtown precinct—Officer Sid McAfferey. I sunk into the leather interior of the cop car closing my eyes. The rain began beating on the windshield soothingly. The police officer hands me a towel to dry off with.

Pulling to a stop at an intersection, I stare out the window at some nearby prostitutes and pedestrians running for cover from the oncoming rain. It dawned on me; _was I the lucky one tonight?_ I look down at my ruined shoes. _Not really..._ But things could have ended much, much differently then they did…

I recollected on what the Reaper had said; "…_All I need to do is bribe a cop a few grand, maybe even a million dollars, and I'll be back on the street tomorrow night…_" I look over at the light brown haired man driving me.

_'Naaaaa.....'_

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**A/N:** Well, there you have it! My first chapter re-make. Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did making it.

I finally got around to re-doing this whole chapter, mainly because the first paragraph nightmare needed to be fixed! I really like how this turned out…Thanks **_soooo_** much to all who reviewed, you guys are so wonderfully thoughtful! Really, tell me what you think! I'll try to get back to you the next chapter I write hopefully soon. Oh, and I now finally have my profile page up too. _Yay__!_

Thanks so much_! _Please review!! ; )

SmilesK ; P


	2. Joey's Garage

A/N: Hello all! This fic is not based around Mia and Joey just in case you may wonder. Sorry for not updating in a while! Tanner (Fido) will be in this story.  
  
Friday I was cruzing downtown Portland chilling out after a crazy week of detective work. I had just bought a brand new beautiful exotic fish for my fish tank. It was kind of funny having it sitting in the front seat next to me. I was relaxing to Jah Radio and just enjoying my day off. My week had been pretty hectic so it was nice to finally get to do what I wanted. Portland was not a place I normally traveled on weekends, but there is a special tropical fish store in Chinatown I like going to. My hair was down and had an almost wind-blown look to it due to the top of my mustang convertible being off. The clouds overhead promised rain any second though, so I would need to put it up any minute. I was on my way back home to Shoreside Vale when  
  
Wham! Half a mile before I reached the bridge, my tire went out! Or maybe it was the radiator... Oh geez. I pulled over roughly and got out. Without a car in Portland. This wasn't looking good. I looked around at all the surrounding warehouses. Some passer-byers glared at me and my car in the middle of the sidewalk. This wasn't too uncommon in Liberty I guess. I ignored them and looked out across the bay at Staunton Island gleaming in the distance against the slate grey storm clouds. The ocean was starting to produce huge waves due to the oncoming storm. The day was quickly turning into a windy and stormy night. I needed to get help fast.  
  
I took out a map and realized I was by the dog food factory. What was I gonna do!? Wait... The dog food factory was by Joey's Garage. Great! I went back into my car, got my purse and mini fish tank, and began walking towards the glowing yellow sign.  
  
The heavy clouds overhead let down their load just then. The rain beat against my head unmercifully. Great. Just what I need.  
  
I walked quickly down the sidewalk, bag and fish in hand. I bet it was a kind of funny sight. The trees on the sides of the sidewalk creaked and swayed in the wind and rain. My hair was blowing into my face my jeans were now getting soaking wet along with the rest of me. I pulled a hood up over my head. The garage came into view down the street. Thank goodness...This was not the type of area I'd like to be caught in, especially when it was becoming dark and raining generously.  
  
I opened the main door to the auto shop dragging a river of rain water with me. The service area was fairly big, but seemingly empty. Motor oil smell reached my nostrils. The service area was deserted and bare, save for the main desk, a table with magazines, and a few chairs. I walked quietly up to the desk and rang the bell. No one answered. I paused for a minute. I could hear the rain beating against the metallic roof. Thunder boomed in the distance.  
  
I waited for a little while. Being the curious person that I am, I walked behind the desk to a doorway with a small crack of light coming from it. I pushed the rusty door open. It lead into a dimly lit, stale garage. I let myself in.  
  
"Hello...?" I called out. "My car is broken down the street!" I walked into the repair area and examined it momentarily. Some weird things were in this garage. Some voices coming from the other side of some cars reached my ears;  
  
"...Down in Chinatown...I want you to take him out!..." The voices paused for a second. I inched a little further into the garage trying to get a glimpse of who the voices belonged to. I saw no one. The feeling of being watched made the hairs on my neck stand up.  
  
A rough Italian accented voice came from behind me suddenly startling me. "Whaddaya want!" It demanded. I turned around quickly to find a strong Italian looking man standing behind me. He had a square face and was slightly taller then me. He had darker features with aqua eyes. He seemed a little on edge right now.  
  
I felt sort of embarrassed. I know I wasn't supposed to be back here. "Oh! I'm sorry! The door was open and I came in..." I said pointing towards the door. He glared at me and raised an eyebrow. I was sort of having a ditzy moment. I smiled and showed my teeth to show I really was innocent.  
  
"My mustang has a broken radiator down the street." There was an uncomfortable pause, but he seemed to believe my story.  
  
"Mustang, huh."  
  
"Uh-huh...Sorry if I interrupted something" I said motioning again. I smiled and laughed a bit to break the awkward silence. He stared at me for a second with his icy blue eyes, then finally answered.  
  
"No problem. Just taking care of some business... I'll be with you in a sec." He gave a little smile and went back over on the other side of the cars, this time talking much more quietly with less anger. "...Watch your back though...That's Triad territory..." they finished talking and a door opened then closed. I wondered who the other customer was.  
  
My steaming car all the while was being brought into the garage by a tow truck. I had wandered off a little bit and began looking at a sweet blue car. It was very slick. Wow... A lot of work must have gone into this.  
  
"Wow...This is amazing!..." I said viewing the blue car without touching it.  
  
"She's a beauty isn't she. I've put a lot of work into her." The mechanic in a blue jumpsuit was now standing behind me.  
  
"It looks like it... Double Rim Turbos! Those are really rare!" "So you know a thing or two about cars. Good quality in a female these days... What's the deal with the fish...?" I smiled and shook my head.  
  
(*A/N *Sorry I don't know a thing about cars or "Double rim Turbos"*)  
  
We got to talking while he was fixing my baby. He was really...Charming and quite nice It didn't appear he was part of any gang, the mafia, or anything like that. I figured he made an honest living as a mechanic, not stealing, extortion, killing or anything. This is a very rare thing to find these days, especially in this city. His name was Joey I found out. I told him mine, Mia. He had a rough exterior, but a sweeter interior. We sort of clicked. I have not been this relaxed in a long time... He got me a towel for me to dry up with while he was fixing my mustang. Time flew by and my car was all ready before I knew it. Turns out it was the radiator that had broken down after all. "Wow...Thanks." I smiled after he came out from under the car, now all finished. "It's as good as new." He replied.  
  
"Oh...How much" I asked taking out my purse, snapping out of my thoughts. "On the house" He replied.  
  
"What!?" I exclaimed out of bewilderment.  
  
"No, no, really. That's very kind of you, but let me pay you...It's the least I could do!" This guy was too nice. "How about going with me to this party on Saturday night instead." I looked up at him from my purse. He was asking me out. How sweet! I gave a smile. "Alright."  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Alright that's chapter 2! Tell me what you think if you feel like it. Hope you like my story so far. I tried spacing and paragraphing this chapter out better then last times. Chapter 3 should be coming soon entitled "The Party". Tanner (Fido) will most likely be in that chapter. Alright, until next time! Bye; )  
  
-SmilesK 


	3. The Party I

**A/N:** Hello All! Here's the much needed chapter 3 rewrite. I considered making this chapter go many different ways, but in the end, it'd be best to put it this way. I didn't want anything too horrible to happen to Mia in this chapter. ; ) Reviews are always appreciated. Part two of this chap. Should be up soon.

Chapter 3: _The Party I_

Saturday. The one day of the week you look forward to. Saturdays in Liberty mean one of three things; bargain hunting in Chinatown fish markets, the medieval millennium fair, or par-_ta_-ing!

Facing the mirror in a silky black full length dress, it's obvious what I'm doing tonight. I add some darker makeup around my chocolate eyes for a smoky look, and blood red lipstick to finalize the classic look. The mirror is not deceiving, I look overly beautiful. I can't help smiling.

"My brothers, uncles, girlfriends, dad was named Joey… Kind of a creepy fella come to think of it… I can tell if this guy's legit or not— he's passes for legit if his car doesn't smells like cologne. That way you know he's not trying to cover up anything."

"Kate, what are you talking about?"

"Ahhh, Mia.. You always fall for the bad ones." Kate finished my hair elegantly up with a dramatic side part. A while back I dated this guy that was part of a gang without knowing...

"Kate! That was a long time ago!"

"...and you have the pepper spray and fog horn right?" she asks for the third time.

"Yes! Yes! Kate—got it all!" Her face contorts through the reflection.

"Sometimes I wonder about you, Amelia." I glare at her through the mirror. Brooke appears in the doorway.

"Aunt Mia! Your boooooyfriend is here!" Making a face, she exclaims. (Brooke is only 6. She's not my niece, but she calls me "Aunt" anyway because we live together like one big family. Brooke and her older brother Jimmie or "G-Dawg" as he likes to be called are both Kate's kids. There's also an old oriental woman living with us in our enormous house overlooking the water towards Staunton Island.)

**_DEEENG DOOONGA_**! The front doorbell rings. One last look in the mirror then I open the oak door. Joey's eyes lit up like they had in the auto shop.

"You look different when you're not soaking wet."

"I'm surprised you found this place ok."

Joey looked over the front lawn. "Anything. Let's go, food'll be ready soon." His accent is true Italian nature.

He slides over the leather into the exquisite black limo after me. "Anything to drink?" A secret shelf opens revealing champagne. "Wow. Thanks." My work is more important to me then guys at this point in my life, but getting out once in a while is refreshing. The massive Callahan Bridge to Portland passes over the limo. Chatterbox plays through the speakers.

"Hello Lazlow. I'm Leonard Nimoy. The following tale of alien encounters is true. And by true, I mean false. It's all lies. But they're entertaining lies. And in the end, isn't that the real truth? The answer is: No—" Joey is a surprising person. How he affords a limo and nice suit on the wage he's making, finding my hidden house in Shoreside alright, but most of all, Portland? _Why are we here..?_ A red light pulls the limo to a halt.

"Why are we in Portland?"

"Lived here most my life… Ever been to Saint Marks?"

"Yes. Of course." Large buildings obstruct what little light is left from the dying sun. I give him a look.

"You look Italian yourself. But Trust me, this is where all the excitement is." He smoothes his collar.

The limo slows its pace once deep in Saint Mark's. Broken streetlights, bums, and excessive filth occupy much of the polluted industrial isle, Saint Marks could be the one exception. Hobos don't dare calling this section home; the mob has too much of an influence here.

"What, you've never been in Portland before?" He mused.

"Not at this time" I replied eyeing the large building.

"It's right inside" He nods.

Two huge metal doors with buff men on ether side mark the entrance to the 'club'.

"Al. Rob." Joey gestures to the guards. The one on the left, like a statue coming to life, turns and shoves An unlit stairwell gave way to a booming area. Neon lights pulse over a crowded, dark dance floor. An overwhelmed bartender manned an overly crowded bar.

"Is that Leone—you sly dog."

"Toni—eh! Good to see you." The purple clad-man made his way to the stairs.

"Not stayin' for dinner, Toni? Thought you liked spaghetti." Toni turned around from halfway up the stairs.

"Naaaa, mum's is better you know? She wouldn't like me stayin' here. Oh yeah—" Takes a few steps down the stairs— "You were right about our favorite cleaner— he kicked the $h!t out of those greaseballs! Got somithin' that needs takin' care of—"The loud music of Rise blotted out his words. Impatiently, he darts up the stairs.

"Ahhh, family friend you know?" Joey smiled. He pulls me through the steamy crowd.

"You like Mr. Wong's!?"

"What!?" I yell over the noise.

"Mr. Wong's?" Joey heaves open heavy doors at the rear of the club.

"Yeah, sure—If it ain't Wong's it ain't white— why?"

The door closes behind us, sealing out the pulsing noise. The scene morphs from edgy to formal in a matter of inches. Dark, Italian men in suits and women sitting in cheap dresses chat around a large blue-linen table waiting for food to arrive. A full-wall fish tank served as the only light source, along with candles dotting the table. Smoke and light from the glass candles lazily envelope the table.

"Woa. This is really nice." He nods looking at his friends.

"Lemme' introduce you to some of the guys… _Tommy, Toni, Tedo, Luigi..." _Joey and all his friends seem like one big happy 'family'. He introduces me to twenty people, I put my coat over a chair and finally make my way onto the crowded dance floor. Joey only danced for a few minutes, but this is fine by me. A bunch of my favorite songs came on and I just did my thing.

"Oh, I need to talk to someone—eh, get a drink. I'll see you in a minute alright?" Joey made his way to the bar leaving me alone in the crowd. _Right..._"The Seed" burst through the sound system. _Oh yeah!_ I love to dance, and this is my song. Dancing figures and strobe lights closes in next to me.

_/I would name it rock-and-roll/ _

Another song ends, the sweaty people in the mosh pit around me quit moving against each other. _I am really enjoying myself_! Where did Joey go?

"—I need to know about someone in town named Metziani. I've heard your good with rumors."

A taller, aggressive man and a shorter, British man argued at the bar. _No sign of my 'date'._ I struggled out of the pit and approach the two.

"What's it to you?" the British accented one downs another shot.

"It means I won't shove this barstool in your face." The smaller winced.

"—Well, he's been doing dirty work with the Forelli family in Saint Marks, stirred up some bad blood with the diablos been in the up an' ice—" The taller shoots a glare my way. Mr. British smiles and picks up a packet of sugar. "Drop your nametag love?"

"Heh, no— did you see a guy in a tux here a minute ago?"

"I'll be seeing _you_ later." The taller one threatens the British guy. He shuffles away from the bar.

"Oh, him… Looking for some one. Apparently we all are these days… You need 'elp findin' that Italian bloke? Why don't you forget 'em baby. Give me your name and number and I could get back to you—how's about anotha' drink?" He motions to the bartender. "Your legs must be tired, runnin' through my mind all day."

"—No, Joey—_something_— have you heard of him?" He drums his fingers on the bar.

"I'm good wit' rumors and all that goes on this side of Portland, but only can think of one Joey at the moment..." His eyes me completely over. "But don't think you're hangin' around _that_ bloke." Good with rumors? _That got my attention…_

I put on a flirty smile. "Oh really…" I located a tube of lipstick and run it slowly, seductively over my lips. "In that case I'll take your number big boy." _Big boy?Ugh, Mia! _He jumps and locates a crinkled napkin. He scribbles his number down and hands it to me.

"I'd like to call you sexy. What's your number?"  
"It's in the phone book."  
"But I don't know your name."  
"That's in the phone book too."

"—Mia!" It's Joey this time.

"Gotta go, I'll contact you soon." I held the napkin up. Mr. British frowns.

"Dinner's almost ready. You hungry?" Joey calls. I hurriedly catch up to Joey.

"I wanna give myself to you—tonight!" British called behind me.

_Please… I don't accept cheap gifts. _The only thing I'll be pumping you for, is information.Joey looked over his shoulder back toward the man at the bar.

"He givin' you problems?"

"heh, fogetaboutit." He smiled,

"Hey baby, good job back there." He complemented.

"Mia, There's one more person I want you to meet." More people…? Noooooo.

"Can we get something to eat first?" I plead.

"Yeah sure. Right in the room with the fellas I want you to meet."

'Fellas'… what is he talking about?

Joey lead me to the smaller, quieter, darker private room. Inside, the pulsing music fades and a large table with many people around it sit ordering meals. A private bar takes up a side of the crowded room. Joey walks over to one of the men sitting at the dimly lit table. I didn't really pay attention. Some Italian dinner smells good right about now.

"Mia! This is an associate of mine I want you to meet… Tanner Vercetti." Joey started behind me. _Another one…?_ I turn around ——_Him_! I blink in shock. The freak I just chased down the other night!

Joey smiles from the other side of me, patting 'Tanner' on the back.

"He's crazy enough to fix anything—back at the shop. My pop, God rest his soul, would have gotten you far, friend." Joey smiles at _him_. A dark glint flashes behind Tanner's eye, otherwise he remained silent. _How can you stand next to that man? _

"One heck of a guy…" Joey pats him on the back.

"Tanner, Mia." He reaches his hand out. I reluctantly shake it. His eyes narrow slightly and he grins looking me in the eye, this time more warmly, but a weird aura surrounds him. Cold. Deep. Dark. We don't separate eyes until I take a seat at the oval table. I need to get to the bottom of this.

"Tanner works for you then?" Joey coughs on his sip of wine.

"Er—yeah. You know how it is in— in business." Two heavy set men laugh deeply across the table, clearly immersed in their own conversation.

"I'm sure you two work through a lot of problems."

Joey is part of the Leone family mafia. I just realize this. I know he looks familiar from somewhere… The organized crime bulletin board at the precinct has his face posted on it! He is to inherit the whole 'family' now that his father passed away.

I have to get out of here now. Tanner will tell them I'm a detective any second. Joey doesn't know I'm one… We never touched the subject of careers. How can I leave in the middle of the dinner? Steaming plates of spaghetti just started being passed around the fancy table. All the chatting Italian men (most of whom I've met earlier) and a few of their dates laugh at the sick jokes. The few other women at the table look like prostitutes. I fidgeted uncomfortable in my chair rubbing a ring nervously around. I glanced over at Tanner.

A silent, far-off look in his eye stills the scene around him. Apparently he finds the empty white plate in front of him fascinating. His posture and guard down, and without the heavy assassin leather bomber coat, Tanner could pass as a regular guy. His Polo shirt with chiseled arms… His hair precariously gelled. Those eyes… _Wow, he is good looking..._ _It wasn't an image formed through that blurry night. _

He glances up at me suddenly. The candles on the table form weird light patterns over his dark brown eyes and spiky hair. I raise an eyebrow. '_Yes. I know where I am. Thanks_.' I hold the gaze for a second. Then, I look at the ceiling, and laugh. Ironic and uncomfortable mixed into one.

"You ok babe?" Joey asked quietly to my side.

I looked at him now smiling. This is too funny. I am a detective! I should have known!

"You're part of the Leone mafia…Aren't you?" I quietly ask him.

His lips part to form a smile, when a fairly pretty, red headed prostitute with an annoying squeaky voice pipes up; "So you workin' regular for Joey now?" Men and women at the table started laughing/ snickering. The slut made eye contact with me. I think I know what she means. I blink a few times out of disbelief. Is this what Joey tells people? I am NOT a prostitute obviously.

"Maybe we can have a threesome later tonight if Joey wants to pay extra for you," I shake my head and look around at the dark laughing figures. _That's it!_ Jumping to my feet I head for the exit.

**WHA—WHACK**! A spaghetti serving chef was standing right behind me! I collide into him, the bowl of steaming sauce flies into the air. Everyone gasps as the bowl gleams through the air. Meatballs fly at the 'formal family', littering the table and knocking over olive oil flasks. The large bowl—as if intentional—clanks right onto the red-head, covering her completely in red.

"YOU LITTLE—" I became focused however on the gushing olive oil. Shrieking men in dripping tuxedos jump to their feet, one knocking over a burning candle. In slow motion, like the gates of hell opening, flames snake over the soaked table clothe. Fire spread through the olive oil, chairs flipped over, and women scream.

"_Oh my gosh!_" I hit my head. _Oi_A tuxedo clad man pushes past me trying to stop the blaze. __Joey looks like he's seen a ghost. Ha, wish I had a camera. A picture of the golden boy now really would be worth a thousand words.

The fire obstructs the view of the room, immediately pushing dinner guests against the wall. _Should I help?! _The white table clothe becomes blanketed with black embers. Fire unpredictably clogs the air vents. Smoke wraps around my dress. A gob of spaghetti lands in my hair from another dress-clad female. She gives me a 'you-klutz' look and rubs sauce off her shoulder. Black smoke began forming in the dark stuffy room. _Time to leave, Mia! _

I distinctly heard '_BEEEP! BEEEP!' behind me pushing through the heavy oak doors._ Gushing water followed immediately.

I stormed out of the 'private' room to the main dance area looking for my coat—I'm leaving now!

"Mia—" Joey's voice cut through the pulsing music. Out of the corner of my eye, pushing through people, I spot him hustling to get to me.

"Would you just listen?!" He grabs my arm turning me to face him.

"Don't touch me!"

"Geez—Sorry! I just thought you know! I am—ya' know—part of the Leone family Mafia." His Italian accent never fails him.

"No Joey! I _didn't _know—" My cheeks flush. "You know why I am leaving!? I am a detective! I try to get people like YOUoff the streets. Just last week I tried arresting your 'associate' Tanner!" Hand quotes on the 'associate' part. His face became that of surprise knowing someone like me is a detective. A tall, dancing figure bumps me. I drop my purse. _Ugh! _The pepper spray and cell phone 'clinks' near Joey's highly polished shoes.

I glance up at Joey, slowly retrieving the spray. He became oddly quiet for the first time I've ever been around him. A pondering, far off look of understanding crosses his face. Icy blue grey eyes meet mine as I stand. The song's fast beat fades into the distance as awkwardness passes through the air.

I face him— it's like he's holding back the urge to slap me— then turn to leave without another word.

_You and your mafia friends can go ram each other up the $$._


	4. Tough Break

Hello All! Sorry for the long wait. Hope you like chapter 4! Not too much of Tanner in this one at all, but he will be in the next chapter. On with the story!  
  
"You owe me lunch!" I mused sinking one last shot through the mini hoop. Mary frowned and picked up the crumpled paper 'basketball'.  
  
"Best two out of three." My boss called me to come into the offices at the precinct today for some special treat. I knew whatever it was; I would not like it. My boss was a sexist dinosaur I never seemed to get along with. Not that it mattered; no one around here liked him much.  
  
"So how was your date on Saturday?" She asked smiling. I gave her a look of death. She just laughed. "I told you that mechanic was bad news..." I didn't mention the ride back with Tanner at all. "So, are you ready for your big speech coming up?" Mary asked aiming for the hoop on the back of her office door. Mary is a cop and a long time friend of mine working inside the precinct, mainly taking domestic disturbance calls. I spun slowly around in her computer chair. "I heard the president of the Liberty Museum was going to be there... I wonder what I will wear..." I rolled my eyes. The big Police Charity Ball (or Fuzz Ball as many like to call it) was coming up and the head of the director's committee asked me to give the opening speech. This year over $500,000 was raised through donations and other unmentioned methods. Aside from the money, many jewels and the very rare and beautiful Aquarius Diamond was acquired. The precious jewels came primarily from big dogs that were thrown in jail and had to leave their precious stolen goods behind.  
  
"Yeah... About that... I don't know if I'm going." I replied making Mary miss her shot. "Your boss seems to think you'll do a great job giving that speech." She said flipping on the radio then recovering the shot. "He doesn't even like me. I have no idea why he wants me to give this speech. Besides, I'm busy enough as it is." I missed another shot. Captain Geneky, as if right on cue stuck his head into Mary's doorway. My shot hit him on the forehead.  
  
"Speak of the devil" I said quietly turning in the chair. "Cherish, get 'your $$ in here!" He yelled turning red. Someone was in a great mood. I exchanged looks with Mary.  
  
"I'll talk to you later." Frowning, I followed Geneky out of Mary's office. He walked so quickly, I had to half jog to keep up.  
  
"All right Cherish, a T.C.R. is going to be installed into your car." He coarsely spat. "A what sir?" I had to practically yell to be heard over all the commotion around us. "A T.C.R. Cherish!" I had no idea what he was talking about. "Wait...wait... You mean those things the cops have in their police cars?! You know I am not on call sir!" "This way we will finally have a way of contacting you." Geneky replied without looking at me. "What about my cell---" "Your freakin' cell never works! Now you will be on duty and on call all day. I gave you two weeks to catch the other Forelli brother, and he ain't in jail yet, so we're doing things my way!" A vein in his forehead throbbed.  
  
We reached his office at the end of the noisy reception room. He began digging through drawers. "Sir, with all due respect, I have a lead. I talked to a witness in the protection program and----" He was obviously not listening. I couldn't talk over the shuffling. I raised my voice.  
  
"---- And he thinks Forelli is making a move around the harbor area---" He pulled out a large black metallic box and threw it at me with ease for how heavy it actually was. I caught it with an 'oomph'. The device probably weighed 20 pounds.  
  
"Have that thing installed by tomorrow! Now GET OUT!"  
  
He hurried me out of his office and slammed the door. 'Ok...' I examined the black box. 'Thanks for the present boss...' Just another day.  
  
I burst out the main doors of the downtown LC Precinct. Sunlight immediately warmed my face. Downtown was bustling with life---people trying to catch the bus, street vendors, business people---What a beautiful day. This was the kind of day many families travel to the beach on. I jumped down the stairs and made my way around to the back of the building.  
  
Charlie was by my Stang examining it with a clip board. 'Now what..?' Charlie was a young cop in training probably just out of his teens.  
  
"Detective M. Cherish... Nice to see you agian."  
  
"Hey Charlie... Call me Mia alright?" "Yeah, I'm just here to install the T.C.R." I groaned and handed it to him.  
  
"What is this thing going to do exactly?" I asked not wanting to know the answer.  
  
"It is really more for your safety, Mia. The main precinct will be able to contact you more often." He said still writing on the clipboard.  
  
"So basically they will have me doing calls now? I'm not stupid ya' know. This thing is a police radio not a TCBY." "T.C.R., Mia." He corrected me. "Tracking...Communication... and Reaction."  
  
I raised an eyebrow. He finished writing and began installing Toby as I named the dumb thing after I unlocked my 'Stang.  
  
Charlie was a decent kid, but jumpy. Always running around... I remembered my days as an intern. I smiled and stretched out on a nearby plot of grass. I took out some case files and scanned them over. A few hours later he was finally finished.  
  
"Ok... Transponder... Check. VHSC codes... Check. Antennea... Check."  
  
"Whoa...whoa...whoa! Antennae?!" What will this thing have its own zip code next? It already is blocking all the front seat foot room.  
  
"Just kidding. You might want to scan this over." He said handing me a five pound hardcover white booklet entitled Getting to Know your T.C.R. It showed a little girl holding hands with a cartoon black box wearing clothes.  
  
"Righhhhhhhht. Thanks a lot." I threw the book into the backseat and took off. The day was quickly becoming night. Some clouds began to envelope the sky overhead. "... Some scattered thunderstorms will occur tonight beginning with a heavy fog early, then turning into heavy showers around midnight. Stay tuned for more Chatterbox up ahead----" I switched the radio I normally listened to off and attempted to turn the black box on.  
  
I kicked the box to get it working. It flickered, then remained lit. "... Pshhhhhh...Thank you for choosing T.C.R. part of the Zaibatsu Corporation..." The thing wouldn't shut up. I loved my Mustang the way it was. It was like my office on wheels, it was my freedom away from a typical 9-5 job. Now, my boss somehow managed to mess that up.  
  
The roads were beginning to become harder and harder to see through the condensing fog. As day slowly became night, people started clearing the streets. Like an unwritten rule, citizens of Liberty knew the evil men could do, and fearfully returned to safety after dark. The fog was like a blanket, hiding all within its grasp. I turned my lights onto brights. I squinted to see the street. "Pshhhhhhhhhhh....Unit 57 in pursuit of armed suspect in Aspartia. Requesting immediate backup. I repeat, armed white male----" I solve cases. Not get into the middle of them. Was I supposed to help? The fog cleared a little and a large half finished blue building came to my view. Large buildings surrounding me faded into and out of view. I realized I was in the area the guy was in! "Pshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" The radio went silent. I waited a few seconds. Nothing. I slowly flicked the radio off. The light didn't change. I looked around a little nervously. The fog was eerily thick. I knew what I needed to do.  
  
Pulling the car to a halt at the side of the road I stuffed handcuffs into my pocket. I pulled a short trench coat over my green blouse and picked up a flashlight from the compartment. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I pulled a metallic box out from under my seat. I do not like guns at all, but unfortunately, I do own one. I only use it on the job. That's it. A small .45 standard issue police gun met my eyes. I carefully picked it up and loaded it with a few bullets, keeping the safety on. I carefully holstered it to the inside of my coat, out of view.  
  
Through the fog, I could barely make out the construction site on the other side of the street. I quickly and quietly began walking towards the site. I reached the blue gate surrounding the site and began following it. At least I now know I have protection on one side of me. I could barely make out street lights a few feet in front of me due to the fog. How was I supposed to find a criminal?  
  
Faintly, I could hear someone walking up ahead of me. Squinting through the fog, I could make out a tall, dark figure. I assumed it was the criminal (who else would be walking around at this time around the construction site?). I quickly walked within yards of the man. Getting closer, I noted the guy had reddish hair and no visible guns. He seemed too deep into his own thoughts to notice someone sneaking up behind him. I pulled out my .45.  
  
"Don't Move! Turn around slowly!" I yelled.  
  
The man turned around. I immediately recognized his face. Blue eyes... Red hair... 5 o' clock shadow...  
  
"I know you...Your face was all over the news when they caught you. To believe the Infamous San Andreas Drug Lord was finally caught doing a grunts deal." This was the infamous Paul Metziani drug baron from San Andreas. I have never met him personally, but I have heard a lot about him recently. Maybe turning this guy over to the slammer would be the key to getting the hunk of junk out of my car.  
  
I held my gun out steadily for how sweaty my hands were.  
  
"He was a big buyer." The guy smoothly said eyeing the gun.  
  
"Everyone knew it was too good to be true finally having you in the slammer, then during your transfer some how you had enough luck left to escape."  
  
"You're like a cat in those heels. I couldn't hear you at all... What have you been doing? Playing metal gear?" He said with a smirk.  
  
"Ha, it's called experience wiseguy." I slowly put the gun back into its hollister not taking my eyes away from him. I pulled out some handcuffs.  
  
"Well what are ya gonna do girlie, take me in? And make sure I'm put away this time?" This triggered something in my mind. Another criminal thinking he can get away with anything... Even though he was bigger then me, I had to still somehow take him down. Using the element of surprise,  
  
I grabbed his arms and threw him against the construction wall with all my energy. I secured his hands together tightly. Geez, for his size, he didn't even make an effort to escape. I was thankful for this; I didn't have enough energy for a chase, nor was I was not in the mood for one.  
  
"Funny, I expected you to struggle some..." I noted after making sure the irons were on tight.  
  
"Timing is everything" He replied. 'what?'  
  
Wham! --Out cold.  
  
Drip Drip Drip  
  
The steady heavy falling of raindrops beat against a hollow metal surface. I faded in and out of consciousness for a while. I slowly regained some thought and senses, though my body was still stiff. I was laying on a soft surface. I listened for anything besides raindrops before slowly opening my eyes. Where am I...? I leaned up slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the new darkness. I was in the backseat of a car. My car. My car was in havoc. My coat looked as if it had been gone through. I zipped it back up. The compartments had been emptied almost completely and my beige purse and its contents lay across the floor. The earlier events came spinning back to me. Man... I rubbed my head and looked out the window to try to see exactly where I was. He had head butted me really hard. I just prayed he didn't drive me somewhere really dangerous or out into the woods or something.  
  
Outside the rain beat down unmercifully onto a seedy street. A sign read "Mike's Milkshakes-Now 100% pure cow milk" The dull glowing sign (aside from some flickering street lights) were the only lights illuminating the area I was in. I was a block away from the construction site I realized, seeing the top of the growing tower over some smaller apartment buildings. I was actually a little relived right now... I knew the killer could have done almost anything with me while I was out cold. This incident didn't make me afraid of him any more, it just made me more determined to put Mr. Paul Metziani out of business.  
  
I quickly locked all the doors of my Mustang then got back into the backseat. I picked up as much of the things in my purse as I could... Lipstick, case files, perfume, tampons, pictures... Where was my wallet?! I looked under all the seats frantically. My ID, Detective badge, money... I started to freak out. "Darnit!" I yelled banging my head again really hard on the ceiling. "Please be here..."  
  
A familiar beige wallet finally caught my eye on the floor under some papers in the front. Before celebrating, I carefully opened it. My pictures and smaller credit cards were still there, but my $60 was all gone. All right... That I could expect I guess... I'm glad that's all he wanted. I always carry only a small amount of money. In Liberty you'd have to be crazy to walk around with no money or loads of it. Some people carry money around for the sole purpose of giving it to a mugger during an attack.  
  
My badge, car keys, ID, and a few case papers were all on the drivers seat, having obviously been previously examined. One of the case papers was on Paul, Tanner, 8-Ball, and the Forelli brothers to name a few. They must all be connected somehow. I sunk back into car seat closing my eyes.  
  
"... Pshhhhhh detective, are you there? Pshhhhhhh---" The fuzzy police radio snapped me out of my thoughts. I switched it off hard. That thing has brought nothing but bad luck. I glanced at the car clock. It read "1:07A.M." I was out for a long time... He must have hit me hard. My head still throbbed a bit.  
  
The Milkshake place caught my attention again. They must have seen something... I grabbed my keys and some other things and excited my car, pulling a hood over my head. A pale half awake clerk behind the counter and a hobo were the only people in the Milkshake hut. I walked up to the greasy teenager. "Welcome to Mike's Milkshakes... Can I take your order?" The kid said half awake. I don't think he'd be much help.  
  
"Excuse me... Did anyone with reddish hair, and black khaki pants come in here earlier?" I asked politely.  
  
He blinked and yawned a few times before groggily answering. "... Was he a really big guy driving that Mustang?" He said pointing towards my car. He did see something.  
  
"Yes!" I nearly yelled. This got his attention.  
  
"Are you alright... Miss?" He asked suspiciously.  
  
"Do you want me to call you a cab?"  
  
"No! No! Where did he go? When?" He gave me another look. Urgh! I pulled out my badge and flashed it to him. He seemed to understand now. I put it away rolling my eyes.  
  
"Look, I didn't see much! He ordered a shake and burger then took off! Now are you going to order something or not!?" His long bangs now covered his whole face now almost. I looked around. Well... It would be a long ride home.  
  
"Double Berry. Small." I said frowning putting a wet crumpled 5 from my inside hidden, disguised coat pocket on the counter. The only pocket that phyco didn't get to most likely. I took a seat facing the stormy street outside with the milkshake. Let me tell you, it was not as good as the place I normally go to. A lone black car drove wearily off outside. I knew I would meet that guy again... And Tanner.  
  
If only I'd have known how soon...  
  
Thats it! Please R&R  
  
The next chapter "The Fuzz Ball" will have much more action and will have Mia put through tough situations. Tanner will be there also. 


	5. Liberty Life

**A/N:** Helloooo All! No it's not a fluke, I DID update! Sorry I haven't in forever, but I still haven't forgotten about this fic. Thanks to all my loyal readers and reviewers that are still interested;

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-Link the 1st- Hey! I'm so glad collaborating is working out! You're a great guy to work with.

-Ghost the Lost Soul- Who would have thought Mia would end up home safely riding with Liberty's most wanted felon? Lol! Trust me, his true side will become more evident in future chapters, but his past will also give more of an explanation as to why he is so ruthless. Mia will slowly try to bring out his 'human' side as well. Thanks a lot for the review!

-Skyline Racer 150- It's nice to know other people feel the same way I do about GTA III stories concerning love (oh and don't worry--- some action too). I want to finish this story, but if you have any ideas or something you'd like to add, feel free to email me speedstar77hotmail.com! I'd love to hear from you!

MacyBlue-Hey! What is up Tiffany? Thanks for kind of getting me started on my first chapter re-write. Couldn't have done it without you.

-Zanna Evans- Thank you so much! You are too sweet! I'm glad you liked my story so much. I hope you enjoy the next few chapters to come. : )

-fanboydowis316- Thanks for the review, and I am sorry for the first paragraph in chapter one! I really didn't intend for it to be that way at all. I hope you like my knew chapter one!

-Dr. Evens- I updated finally! Follow up chapter will be up shortly.

-Kagato. Masaki- Thank you!

Please email me at speedstar77hotmail.com with questions, concerns, or even comments you have about my fanfic. I really want to hear what you think! I really enjoy hearing what you have to say! Well, on with the next chapter…  
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SmilesK ; )

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I crouch around the crowded police car with many other cops and my small crew, examining layouts of the run down complex looming in front of us. The semi-circle of police vehicles offers little privacy from the gunfire going on all around us. One of the officers held a shaky flashlight over the floor plans of the towering Diablo apartment project across the hectic, raging courtyard. I couldn't tell if the Diablo's or the police had the upper hand at this point in the crossfire.

"And once inside, you'll have 10 minutes to find the hostages. Any longer then that and the cops can't guarantee you a clear path out. Understand? _In—and—out!"_ Police Chief Rudy yells angrily at the surrounding law enforcers. His hair is drenched in sweat. I just focus on memorizing the map in front of me on the hood of the cop car.

"Got that? You find those hostages in _10 minutes_!" Loud automatic machine gun shots rang out everywhere followed by screams in the night air. The courtyard becomes bloodier and bloodier with every passing second. Stray bullets hit street lights, adding to the darkness. I duck every few seconds out of reflex.

"Rudy—they're in the indoor kennel area!" A shot hits a tree behind me. He shoots me a look.

"There is no kennel in there Det—"

"Yes there is!" I manage quickly

"A month ago, dog fights were common around this building. Where else could 20 hostages be kept?" I point on the blueprints quickly at a large room with many smaller blocks surrounding its walls.

"Your men need to take this route—turn left here—go straight 40 yards— Oh right here, make sure one of your men can lock pick—I'm sure these doors will be reinforced steel— then go right, all the way to this section—here." I slam my hand down on the map. The cops around me look ready and pumped in the flashing night air.

"You sure 'bout this— I don't want my men storming in there—"

"Positive sir!"

He regards me through the flashlight's glare. I glare back defiantly. The shouts do not cease. The officers around us wait eagerly for the new instructions.

"Ok—change of plans."

"_Pshhhhhhhhh_... _Alright, we'll be able to give you a 10 second leeway into the building, Captain---be ready!_" The snipers overhead inform us through the loud crackling police radio.

"Alright, this is it men, get ready—we've been waiting for this for almost two hours now—" Bob and another officer exchange looks as Rudy gives the all-clear.

"_Pshh_—_Get ready to proceed in 5...4...3..2-GO!"_ The snipers overhead inform the anxious men through the crackling radio. An MP-5 and sniper shots ring out.

I duck under the hood of the cop car, as a new wave of bullets heads toward the men. The gang members hide behind cars and statues firing madly in the night air.

I close my eyes and say a quick prayer as the officer's jump over the small barricade and sprint through the dark at the run down building.

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"Mia! There you are—there is a little girl over here that needs medical attention immediately! All the paramedics are full—" Lisa, an intern shouts through all the running people.

"I'll get right on it!" I yell making eye contact with her for a brief moment. I hustle through all the federal men and women trying to make heads or tails of the war scene in front of them, around ambulances, dodge bloody cops... I look frantically through the masses of people. The searchlights overhead offer little guidance through the loud night. Police lights flash madly everywhere making me dizzy.

I spot a little blonde hair girl sitting alone on the edge of an ambulance in a secluded spot. She must have been one of the captives…

I near the ambulance under the Maple trees and gently kneel beside her. "Hi honey…" She looks petrified.

"It's alright now…" I begin soothingly.

"All those bad men are locked up right now." Her blue eyes look up at me. Her wrist looks broken and she had blood on her arms.

"I'm gonna clean you up, Ok? Let's just see here…" After examining her cuts, I pull out a first aid kit from the ambulance behind her. Snapping on rubber gloves, I first needed to distract her from what I'd be doing...

"Can you tell me anything about the bad people that locked you up? How tall they are, if they had any accent—" Ooops! It was the first thing that popped into my head. _Mia you idiot_! Years of detective work I guess…

She frowns. "Aaaah, what's your name kid?"

"My name is Laaau-ran." She pipes up enthusiastically. I can barely hear her over police sirens and people shouting commands. Blue and red lights flash, illuminating the trees around us. The sky scrapers on Staunton Island peek over the swaying Maples. The rest of the city seems undisturbed in the cool night air.

"Geez… You are really awake… Are you normally out this late?" She shakes her head.

"You must have some kind of superpower to be so alert." Her eyes watch me dab disinfectant onto a cotton swab.

"Ummmm… Or actually can you tell me about your dog? Do you have a dog?" She immediately perks up at this. I wipe disinfectant on a cut near her elbow. Luckily, it appears most of the blood isn't her own.

"Yeah. His name is Maxeroni."

"Oh…That's nice…" I sound interested. I turn her broken wrist over gently. She is being very good for how much pain she's probably feeling. I continue half listening to her. The leaves rustle overhead from a light breeze.

"Is he a big slobbery doggy?" Someone runs over to us from the crowd of people. I realize it's a paramedic once he gets within feet. More and more cars pull up to the scene. News reporters line the police tape, mics ready, shouting at anyone to talk with them.

"We have another one coming, so we're gonna need you to move soon—" Still out of breath, not even looking at me, he shuffles through the ambulance drawers grabbing some liquid oxygen in clear baggie's. He runs back toward the courtyard of faceless occupied people.

"…My mommy says you people never do anything right around here anymore. She says, back in her day, kids like me could actually go to the park all by themselves at night!" I nod, still focusing on her cuts. __

"Is that what she says...?" _Now about that wrist…_I slowly wrap gauze around her little fracture.

"But you know what lady?" One brow raises to show I am half-listening.

"I think you people do an OK job." I look up at her smiling face, despite all the dirt and grime.

"It's nice to hear that for a change... Lauren, you're all free to go." I lift her off the back off the ambulance.

"Well, thanks a lot lady!" She turns on her heel, blonde curls bouncing, and runs toward her teary eyed parents waiting patently behind the police tape. The girl stops suddenly and turns back toward the flashing ambulance and me.

.

"Hey, I didn't get your name lady."

"Mia."

.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"With the death tole reaching above 35--- Law officials scramble to figure out who's who among all the dead bodies. All but one hostage made it out of the local Diablo gang's grasp alive thankfully. SWAT teams are still searching for any sign of drugs thought to be manufactured in the Diablo projects of Portland. Freed hostages are currently being questioned as to the treatment and conditions of their frightening experience. As one shaken captive goes on to tell us—" I groggily shut the radio off. Pulling into the driveway, my white lit house never looked so warm and inviting.

I feel almost too tired and shaken up to leave my Mustang, but somehow I found myself walking up the stone steps in a trance like state. The lights inside are all on. I smile. The people sharing the house with me must have stayed up late just to see me come home.

Sure enough, the white swinging door flies open just as I reach for it.

"You're alive! You're OK!" Kate yells. We are about to hug, when she gasps and her face changes. I follow her eyes to my white blouse, completely soaked in blood.

"MIA!" The old oriental woman screeches to her regular pitch only she can acquire.

"No, no... It's not mine!" After that came out, I realize how little comfort it gave judging by G-dawg and Brooke's faces (Kate's children).

I don't feel like speaking about the event I had just been put through, but somehow I knew they'd all want to ask a million questions. All I want is a pillow under my head, take a long, hot and steamy shower then fall into bed. I have no idea how late—or early it had been when I finally drifted asleep.

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I sleep in late the next morning. Lying still, I watch my Gorami fish swim gracefully through the hexagonal tank. Not even bothering to look at the alarm clock, I roll over in bed. The sun casts a warm glow over the desk, my black Dell, the fish tanks, and my white shelves with various objects all over them. My perfect cozy baby blue room is rejuvenating. I feel so safe and secure here, the event hardly fazes me anymore. Somehow, all my problems drift away when I'm just watching my fish. My own special place in Liberty…

I pull the covers off and sleepily get on my feet. Walking toward the window, I definitely can tell it is daytime now—afternoonish by the looks of things. The windy street is bare probably due to everyone being at work. I feed all my fish and walk into the bathroom, switching on the faucet. I longed for another immense shower.

The wet beads feel so good against my skin. I stay in for probably a salubrious hour.

I slowly pour conditioner into the palm of my hand, rub it in my hair half awake, and it hits me—I am supposed to be questioning the new don of the Forelli family today! _Nooooo__!_

_I don't want to do anything today!_ I switch the water off, still not feeling entirely liberated of blood, and hop out of the shower.

I hurriedly check the calendar on the back of my door. _Sunday…Monday… crap!_ In the 'Tuesday' square scribbled with red permanent marker read;

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> _ Forelli Investigation, 11: 30 am._

My eyes dart to the blue fuzzy clock at the top of my bed— '12: 32'. My head pumps. I can hear my boss now;

"_Cherish! Do you have ANY idea how many strings I pulled to get you into a civilized meeting with this guy?! I mean you have a hunch he might be involved with drug dealing and you expect to actually get a warrant on that? He agreed to talk with one of my investigators even with no hard evidence against him and you don't show up!?! What will you do next— ask for a raise?!"_

I throw on a black dress skirt and blouse on, spritz on Sweet Pea body splash, and walk out the door downstairs. My hair is in a dripping messy pile on my head, but no time to fix it.

"Morning, Mia!" A whiff of Kate's French toast greats me as I hustle through the kitchen. The news drones decisively from the TV.

_"—The mysterious sniper strikes again last night, this time wounding—"_

"Hey—Brooke did you touch the files I had lying here?" G-dawg and Kate rummage through the kitchen as Brooke scribbled on some papers. I notice to my relief the old oriental woman is no where in sight.

"I drew you pretty pictures, Aunty. See?" She holds up case papers I have been working on with red scribble crayon all over them. The felon's eyes have all been colored yellow.

"Erm—Thanks." __

I grab an orange along with some heavy books stacked on the table I've been researching, and the list of questions I had for the new don of the Forelli family. I try juggling them all as I head out the door.

"—Listen I am really in a hurry, and I'm gonna be out all afternoon—"

"You SIT AND EEEEEAT!" I turn abruptly and come face to face with the short woman dropping two books.

"No! I—Move!" _I'm really in a hurry here!_

"You SIT AND EAT!" Her wispy grey hair bobs in the tight bun. She had a bloodied apron on and her eyes squint more then ever. _Whoa! Fine! Fine!_

I slowly walk back toward the wood counter and hop on it. _Why did I move in with her!_? At the time it was the only room I could afford. Her house is very different then my room, having somewhat cluttered Chinese objects everywhere, smelling like fish, Chinese food, and thick incense…

The rest of the house (besides my baby blue room) has dark wood everywhere. Strange statues, samurai artifacts, and kites all line the ceilings and halls, creating a unique vibe combined with lots of foreign vased flowers. The old woman hangs strange Chinese calendars and signs throughout the kitchen, and plants Bonsai gardens and mini-waterfalls throughout the halls. The deep wooden kitchen has a peaceful waterfall by the garage door. You wouldn't like to be lost in this house at night however…

"What? You don't eat anymore?!"

I sorted through case papers and bit into the freshly picked orange. I look up and notice G-dawg glaring at me from across the breakfast nook. He is in his regular mock wannabe gangsta garb, complete with some fake bling-bling today. I felt like yelling at him, flashbacks of his friends trashing the nearby park popping into my head, but I hold my temper.

The old woman scuffles into the kitchen with a large, slithery dead fish in a clear bag.

She slides the bag off, holds it by the tail over the sink, and slices its head off. _PLOP!_

"_OooK_… I'm gonna get going now…" I slide down off the counter, fish smell now filling the kitchen. My appetite is gone.

"Wait, here's your paper, Mia—I think your boyfriend is on page 7." Kate hands me _The Liberty Tree_ smiling.

"What? _Page 7_…?" I flip through the newspaper with a spare hand.

_"Joey Leone, respected mechanic inherits his father's estate today—"_

I throw the paper back at her. "Would you drop it? It's not that funny anymore! Half the time I feel like he's sending someone after me—"

"—Like a hitman?" G-Dawg unfavorable drawls for the first time. A hint of hope lies behind his words. I ignore him.

"I'm already late because of all of you—"

"—Us?"

"Yes! You didn't wake me up and now I'm late—" I grab my purse, shove my books and files into a bag, grab my badge and keys— I need to leave _now_.

"Mia, it's not our job to—"

"Yeah Ok— I'm sorry Kate. I didn't mean to bite your head off..." She turns back to cleaning the kitchen. "It's just—the last few weeks have been hectic. Genecky wants me to give a speech, having some unexpected run-ins with felons," I glare at the half eaten orange, "more and more riots starting around the city, and of course the little incident last night all added with a nice blend of no sleep, and you get one very happy detective in the morning."

I glance awkwardly at the TV. Images of a sinking, burning Mexican ship at the Portland Harbor flash by. No doubt that will be my next assignment… I juggle a mug of coffee and try heading out the door, arms still full of books, files, bags…

"Whoaaa girl..."

"Major PMS! Must be your time of the month, huh?" Comments G-Dawg folding his hands. Man that gangsta wannabe has a mouth on him! He receives a quick look of death;

"And just because your friends don't like what I do-----Oaaaahhhhh!" The hot coffee spills down my front and over my skirt.

"_Owwwwwww__!__ Help meeeeeee_!" I jump back from the breakfast table. G-Dawg gives me a nasty look.

"Yup...It's her time of the month."

.


	6. The Forelli Manor

Running into the garage, I throw all my stuff into the trunk. I get in the red Mustang. '_Stupid, incompetent Ugh_!' It stalls.

"_C'mon! I just got you fixed last week—_" The car stutters then starts. By the time I had changed again, the fuzzy clock read '12: 55'.

I zoom into reverse and head to the old Forelli Manor on Staunton Island. _Pleeeease__ let there be no car jacking, traffic jams, or street dodging hobos today…  Just this once! _I barrel towards the Staunton Island Lift Bridge. To the Far East, I spot a large pillar of black smoke behind skyscrapers and houses, rising high into the sky, slightly obscuring the sun. _Must be the ship…_

_SCREECH! _I jam on the brakes. Someone in a blue Maibatzu Monstrosity races in front of me, nearly crushing the hood of my car! I barely miss crashing into a pole and leveling a woman. _Some drivers in this city… _After living here for years, this type of thing angers you less and less. I shift into reverse backing back onto the road, and sit in misanthropic dread waiting for the wailing cop cars to pass. ..._I am so late!  Let's go!_

By the time I pass the lift bridge connecting Shoreside to Staunton, I have second thoughts about visiting this guy. I know it's rude to be late… Really late… But finding the answer about the drug ring would put this creep behind bars. I wonder if the whole thing is just a set up… _Why would he willingly talk with a detective?_ I pop a Vici mint into my mouth. _Probably to seem less suspicious to my boss and the rest of the precinct…___

I pull out a map of Staunton Island at a red light. _Alright…__ Forelli…Forelli…1988 West Shore Dr. _His house is on the west side of the island, by the docks. Watching a crazy street vendor yell at passing pedestrians, I wonder why people would actually want to live in inner city Liberty. The honking of cars is driving me crazy!

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_1985…1986…1987…_I carefully examine addresses of huge mansions passing on my right. The busy city quickly faded into a barren pine forest closer to the water. As a long stretch of pine forest rolls by the windows, the city noise, pollution, and cars fade away fast. Looking through the thick woods, I wonder if I had taken a wrong turn back in the city… A squirrel darts across the deserted road. Suddenly, a lone gargoyle reading '_1988_' emerges from the surrounding brush followed by a hidden dirt road. _Guess not…_

_._

_._

My Mustang jerks and pulls off the empty road and heads down the gravel pathway toward the western shore. The forest seemed to get thicker the closer to shore you drive. A stray branch scrapes across the side of my Stang.

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The dirt road led to a small clearing through the pines ahead. My Mustang slowly pulls into the quiet clearing. I go around a large turn-around in the driveway and put my car into park. A huge, extravagant brick manor loomed in the cool, misty sunlight at the center of the clearing. Vines wrapped themselves along the second story balconies of the mansion. Lavish grandiose crystal chandeliers hung over the main entranceway.  _Wow. _

_._

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Through a small patch of trees, the ocean glitters into view behind the house. A silent private dock lurks in the water behind the estate. Through the large maple trees, I spot many security cameras. _Interesting..._ The mansion's rear faces Shoreside Vale, the western island where I live.

A sleek red Banshee catches my eye further down the empty drive. It is the only other car in the clearing.

I place a notepad, pen, my badge, and the list of questions into my purse. Stepping out onto the dusty gravel driveway, the full grace of the mansion hits me. With eerie and mysterious statues (complete with water shooting from their mouths) lining the dark walk to the front of the house, it is truly a sight to see. Crows plunge off the top of the mansion, flying dangerously low around the courtyard.

I straighten up and walk up the large stone steps leading to massive double doors. My heels clank over the highly polished limestone.

_BRRRRRING! BRRRRRING!_  I inspect a beetle scaling the viney door as I wait patently.

_C'mon…_

_BRRRRING! BRRRRRING!_

_Shuffling…then silence.___

_BRRRRING! BRRRRRING!_

A colored semicircle window sat above the double doors. _Hmmm…_Dropping my purse on the porch, I walk over to the decorative ladder covered in vines near the entrance.

_This might work…_

I clumsily grab the fading garden ladder and begin climbing. My right foot slips and vines scratch my face, but I use my arms and pull myself to the top. My head pops over the thin ledge and I peek through the indistinct window— _Woa__!_ _Nice house!_ 

I study the deserted, dim, elegant entranceway for any sign of life. My hands start to slide as I lose my grip. I lean my forehead further against the hazy window. _Like there's nobody in there…_ The red Banshee is a dead giveaway of somebody being inside!

Without warning, a tall figure with a black jacket paces through the entranceway. As he enters the dusty light cast by the window, I spot reddish hair and a hansom face through the thick glass. He seems happy about something…Paul Metziani… _It has to be!_ I recognize his little strut from the previous encounter. From this angle and through the thick glass, I can't be 100% positive however.

I watch stealthily as the rugged ex-con strides to a bureau, unbolts a concealed drawer under it, and removes something… He shoves it in his coat. I intently watch his every move. I can't make out what the object is in the dark entrance and through the smudgy glass though. I grip the ledge more tightly as my heels begin sliding on the vines. I keep an eye on the back of the man's red head.

Another man in a dark coat unexpectedly sulks into the entranceway. _Something is going on in there…_Wait until my boss hears about this! I knew this guy is connected to these felons.

The two men talk momentarily. The latter of the two turns quickly and walks up the stairs. Paul pauses in the center of the entranceway contemplating about something... His back is turned to me, but I stay focused on him. 

Something gently skims over my arm. I shift to see a huge wolf spider on my elbow! _Eeeeeeee__—_I am terrified of spiders—I'll admit. I unravel a spare hand and smack the spider off my arm. _WHACK!_ I accidentally hit the narrow glass pane too. __

The offender suddenly stops and turns around. His eyes dart toward the window above the double doors— I duck. I carefully unlatch my hands from the musty ledge and hold myself under the sill. _Thump!_ My heel slides off and hit the porch 10 feet below where I am grasping. I steady my grip on my ladder and start to climb down when... __

_Ouch!_ A huge section of my wet hair attaches to the garden ladder and vines! I try yanking my head back, making the knot worse.

_Owwww__! _My head is stuck to the ladder! I can hear footsteps suddenly behind me. Or are they from inside? My face is enwrapped in the vines and dark hair! _No!! _

I tug on my hair ferociously with a free hand. _C'mon! _The doors under me, to the side open. _No… Don't come out! _This is so embarrassing! I grab at my hair.

"…Can I help you?" comes a voice.

I can't see who it is, but I'm sure they have a great view…

"Uuuumm… No, no... I think—I think I've got it under control—" I gasp. I know he meant 'what are you doing here' not 'need help getting unstuck'. The man clears his throat, no doubt probably glaring at me. I yank my hair out of the ladder with one last bit of force — _Ow__!_ I mouth a scream, letting no noise come out. I manage to climb back down the fading ladder. I flusterly grab my perse heel. 

My hair stung to my face. A tall butler in black and white gives me a repugnant look. __

"…Hi—I'm Detective Cherish. I believe Captain Genecky informed you someone is coming over?" The snobbish, uptight, old butler raises his nose, still blocking the doorway. Paul is no where in sight.

"I believe you were expected," He pulls out a gold watch. "2 hours ago."

I pull a leaf out of my messy, damp hair.

"Ah…huh."

Awkward moment… The house behind him has a dark wooden interior, the walls oozed of pure expense draped in red linen, ritzy paintings, and lined with posh leather chairs. I have been on this guy's case for weeks. I did my own private research on him using the precinct's databases and the library. Lots of his 'contacts' have been arrested.  I just wanted to come face to face with him…

The man 'Eh-hemmed' again, clearing his throat. I raise an eyebrow.

"Ummmm… _Yes_…" I straighten my skirt. "I realize—"

"Who is it, Winston?"

I peek over the annoyed butler. Another silhouette walks toward us through the dim corridor. He slowly enters into the light of the doorway. I can see the Forelli brother is nearing 50.

"Ahhh… You must be the ambitious detective that Genecky has been telling me about..." _Why would Genecky be talking to you about me? _

"You're late."

I put on a fake smile. "I'm sorry…"

"Rough night?" He asks tilting his head.

I don't say a word. It feels so limiting to finally be this close to the person you've been investigating, and to know you are powerless to do anything. He leads me through the massive house occasionally small talking about the paintings lining the hallway. I stay alert for any other people. We pass a busy maid; no one else seemed to occupy the entire house though. 

"…And this eighteenth century Verona statue is my favorite." He points to a morbid statue of two people—I think. I nod taking a seat in the large dark oak office. I pull out the list of questions, pen and notepad from my bag.

"Listen, we have reason to believe—"

"We?" The man cuts in smoothly. I narrow my eyes. "Your boss informed me just you were on my case."

"_I _believe you are funding the manufacturing of SPANK and are connected to these men." I put several pictures of criminals on the dark wood coffee table including and a rare, far-off shot of the sniper that has been terrorizing Liberty City the last few weeks and a mug shot of Paul Metziani. His face doesn't change much.

"Ms. Cherish, what can I get you to drink?" He walks to a hidden drink cupboard behind his desk.

"Its detective, and I don't want anything."

"How about some scotch?" I roll my eyes angrily. I am not getting anywhere.

Tanner's picture catches my eye in my bag. I pull the 8 by 10 black and white photo out.

"…What do you know…About this man?"

His face flashes a different emotion—for a brief second. He turns back to pouring himself a drink.

"The Reaper of Liberty City… I've heard the stories about him... I don't believe them. Do you, Detective?" I look out the large half circle window across the bay not answering.

"…But I did hear he demolished the Cartel's little stands across town—"

"That's great sir," I cut in "but I'm not here to talk about the Cartel— I have reason to believe you are the head of the Forelli family mafia. You and your brother seem to be friends with lots of criminals that have been sentenced to life these days… I'd like to start off by pointing out that I know why you've agreed to speak with me in the first place. " Mr. Forelli pours a cup of scotch still facing the drinks. His graying hair is thick with gel, shining through the musty sunlight.

"You just want everyone to think I'm crazier then ever, suspecting a lonely old man like you." _Keep it professional, Mia!_ He faces me, seeming amused at this.

"Have you met my son, Detective Cherish?"

"What? No, no…" _Son?_ I make a quick note of it on my notepad.

"I didn't realize you—ah, had a son Mr. Forelli…" His blue eyes flash.

"He visits me occasionally…" I glower at him and point to the pictures;

"Does Paul Metziani visit you often too?"

His expression darkens and he changes the subject again.

"Are you ready for the grand police ball next weekend detective?" He stalks closer and takes a seat next to me on the leather couch, his pin stripe suit folding crisply. _How does he know about that?! Probably an inside source…_

 "This year should promise to be rewarding…" I narrow my eyes. He smiles and continues speaking, but not looking at my face.

I clear my throat and his eyes snap away from my chest. "Can we get back on subject please?" I didn't feel like talking about the ball I'm dreading any more then sharing the same room with this shady guy.

"I've heard you've raised over 600,000 dollars—an all time record for the precinct if I'm not mistaken."

I nod, gathering the pictures together. _This guy is creepier up close! _

"You shouldn't poke your head into places they don't belong, detective…" His eyes seem to penetrate right through you. Shifting uncomfortable, I raise an eyebrow. _Excuse me?! _He hops to his feet from the leather chair, his expression lightening.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an important client coming over—" He hurries me out of the office.

"Wait! I still have some questions I'd like to ask—"

"Well Detective, then I'd suggest being on time next time." He smiles at this and roughly slams the wooden office door on me, shoving me into the echo-y hallway.  _Next time?_ _Like that's ever gonna happen. _

The dim wide hallway echoes with my shoe steps. The front entranceway comes into view—but something catches my eye. I am all alone in the Forelli's house with unlimited evidence at my fingertips! I am not giving up this opportunity to look around, and after the way that guy treated me… The wooden office doors remain shut behind me. I turn quickly left into a smaller hall. CLINK! CLINK! My heels make too much noise against the reflective, highly polished floor! I walk steadily under a chandelier and past stone pillars. CLINK! CLINK! Pausing, I hurriedly remove my noisy footwear. I run around another corner barefoot and spot a set of large oak double doors. Pressing myself against the nearest wall, I listen for any movement…

A crow caws outside, but some other distant noise catches my attention… I carefully walk past a large fireplace and mirror; stopping at the pair of closed double doors. Pressing my ear against the cool wood, I hear murmurs coming from the other side. _The dining room… Hmmm… Let's see who your contacts are, Mr. Forelli...  _I open my purse and remove the .45 standard issue police gun. I slowly load in a new cold cartridge. _I'll show you Genecky—even without a warrant!_

Slipping back a few steps, I prepare to bash the door in. _3...2...1— _I run, jump, and bash the door in with a kick.

"—Alright everybody freeze! You're all under arrest—" I hold my gun straight out.

A woman's shriek followed by many young children's screams fill my ears. The entire room is filled with people—not just men; but women and children surrounding a large, balloon filled table in the middle. They all stare at me (well more like my gun) with wide eyes.

Then I notice the **HAPPY BIRTHDAY!** Sign over the back wall. Confetti settles on the ground. A young girl is about to blow out candles on a chocolate cake. _Oops…_

_Awkward moment…_I slowly hollister the gun at my side. The faces of everyone in the room stare at me in shock. The little girl bangs the table. The song 'Broken Wings' dully plays in the background.

"Umm…H-hey… Just doing a routine—"

A voice cuts in from behind me.

"Ah, I see you've met my other child, detective—one of my most important clients." I turn to see a smiley faced Mr. Forelli. He strolls into the room to a short, dark haired lady. He wraps an arm protectively around her, as if I'm some sort of raving lunatic. The woman (his wife or girlfriend I assume) stares menacingly at me, with flaring nostrils… I fidget with my purse slightly, continuing a constant glare with the Forelli brother. 

"Now if you'll be so kind to let yourself out, I'm sure you can discover where the door is." His cold eyes glint with glee.

I narrow my eyes and back out of the room. I hear murmurs as I walk back through the disassembled doorway.

My pace unconsciously quickens as I look for the exit. _It is so frustrating---and embarrassing!  _The scumbag Forelli's little beady-eyed grin has been permanently etched into my brain.

I furiously round a corner in the dark passageway. _A birthday party…? I won't be surprised if I turn this next corner and come face to face with Paul Metziani himself!_ He has to still be around here somewhere… The source of rushing water comes into view. __

An exotic fountain surrounded with potted ferns, sat between three old corridors. I hesitantly near the fountain, and take a seat on the cool rock next to a large fern. My aching feet are throbbing against the marble tile. I protract the uncomfortable heels from my purse and carefully put them on.

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The gulls and crows outside chant, and the large house is very quiet. An unused corridor catches my attention as I skim my nails through the water. _Maybe he went to the back of the house…No--Mia! Don't even think about it--You are leaving now! _Dimes and quarters glimmer through the shifting water. _But if I just get a glimpse of him again…_

I'm not normally a sneaky person, but what would you do? All I need is some evidence to show that he is here—

"—Looking for the exit?" I quickly jump to my feet, knocking a potted plant over at the sudden noise— It flies into the fountain, nearly splashing the butler. He has fixed eyes on me again. His focus turns to the sinking plant.

"OH! I'll—here." I pull the murky fern out of the fountain. A large pool of water oozes from the pot all around the fountain ledge. The snobbish butler glares at me.

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.

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He opens the front door, nearly shoving me onto the porch.

"I—" He slams the door in my face.

Rushing down the steps, past the leering statues, I dive into my Stang. The red Banshee is no where in sight. I rummage through my purse for the keys to my car. _Where are they?_ I scratch the back of my head. _What the— _I slowly extract another branchy twig from my hair. _Urgh__!_

I rev my car into gear and zoom out of the darkening clearing. _Well, that went well------yeah right! _Stopping at a burger joint on the way home, I reminisce on the Forelli manor;

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_How did Mr. Forelli know we raised 600,000 dollars??_

_._

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OK, the next chapter will be 'The Fuzz Ball'. Don't worry I'll get that up sooner this time! That should have more action in it and Tanner (Fido) and Paul will be in that for sure. Please review! The more ideas I get, the sooner the next chapter can come up. Tell me what you think!! _Please!!?_

SmilesK ; P


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